Blackbird
by TheShoelessOne
Summary: Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive. Blackbird, fly... MOMO & Ziggy fic. Spoilers for the end of Ep. II


**Blackbird **

MOMO was asleep. Everyone knew that the girl had been up for God knows how long. She deserved the rest she got, every second of it. Her tiny body was curled up in a soft chair, the hat fallen from her pink locks to the floor in her slumber. Her lolling head rested upon the shoulder of the half-conscious cyborg in the maintenance chair beside her. 

No one that had seen it had believed it. The cyborg had violated his own code, his own restriction of emotion, in a fiery burst of anger. MOMO had been scared of Ziggy then. She'd never seen that look in his eyes before. That look of wrath, of vengeance, of slaughter. She was glad that he had finally closed those eyes.

MOMO wavered in and out of sleep, as if checking in on her unconscious friend. She'd cried when he collapsed. There were so many other times she had cried that day, wiped away the tears before another had seen her break down. She'd hated to see what remained of his left arm, a bloody reminder of the outburst that had been so uncharacteristic of him. She nuzzled her face closer into his remaining shoulder comfortingly. The man beneath her head heaved an unconscious sigh, causing the girl to lift her head.

Sleep filled her eyes, but she focused on the face of her savior, her friend. He was so calm then, just lying there without a care in the world. He was so unlike the man that surfaced when he had demolished the wall. The left side of his face was still spattered with blood. His own blood. A lump caught in MOMO's throat, but she forced it down, searching for a cloth to wipe the blood from his cheek. Finding one, she licked the edge and rubbed the coarse cloth gently on Ziggy's face. He didn't react to the touch. MOMO bit her lip.

She wondered if this was what a bird with a broken wing looked like. Helpless was the word that came to mind, but she couldn't make it fit for Ziggy. He was too strong, too sturdy for that word. She didn't think that he would ever be helpless. Or weak. Or alone.

No, she decided, finishing with cleaning his face, he would never be alone.

Ziggy was a broken bird, unable to fly, unable to sing. She could see it in his eyes. When he stared at her, she could see the broken bird inside of him, wanting to fly again, to fix the broken wing and soar. Now he was broken on the outside, an injured blackbird who needed her care and protection. With enough time, she could help the ruined bird to its former strength, she could fix what had been broken, inside and outside. If only he would let her.

Ziggy's blue eyes blinked open with a loud exhaling breath. MOMO nearly gasped, being so close to him to wipe the blood clean. The first thing she saw in his eyes was pain. He knew what had happened to his metal arm, she could see it on his face. But the look passed, and surprise took its place.

"MOMO," he said as if finding an epiphany. She flashed a sad smile, placing the bloodied cloth beside their chairs.

"Hello, Ziggy," she said, more tears in her voice than she had meant. Ziggy inspected her quickly.

"I seem to have misplaced my arm," he murmured, sarcasm dripping from his low voice. MOMO smiled, a real one this time, and leaned against his shoulder again, feeling sleep tugging at her body. Ziggy tensed at the contact.

"Ziggy..." she told him, closing her eyes, "I'll take care of your wing."

In only a short time, she was breathing steadily. Ziggy took in her last cryptic message slowly, trying to decipher it. But, he soon realized, it wasn't the meaning, but that she was there beside him that mattered most to him. He took her small hand in his, running his thumb over each of her fingers in turn, then turned his head, only slightly, and said:

"MOMO," he started, as if testing her slumber. She didn't even stir. He continued. "You've already fixed my wing." With a sigh, he rested his head gingerly upon hers, closing his eyes and relishing every moment of silence they shared, as any father and his daughter should.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive.

* * *

**AN:** I listened to The Beatles' "Blackbird" and I was so vividly reminded of Ziggy that I just had to write something about it. I know it's short, please forgive me. You don't even have to like it if you don't want. I just wanted to share my ideas. 


End file.
